Trouble with a Capital T
by Mikel Midnight
Summary: Female villains regularly entreat captured heroes to side with them and turn against the law; the heroes, noble to the end, invariably turn them down. What would it take for one of the heroes to reconsider?


The man remembers seeing a flash of gold, and then nothing but darkness. He awakes to see, seated before him, a blonde woman wearing a golden minidress and golden slippers, and wearing a utility belt.

She smiles engagingly. "The Gay Troubadour," she says as she sips a hot drink from a glittering cup. "Finally awake. Mabuse's gas combined with my own must have hit you hard. I do apologise. Tea?"

The man snarls, "Golden Glider." He tugs at his bonds, spying his mandolin hanging out of reach from a nearby wall. "What do you want with me?"

The woman sips her tea again. "I thought we should have a little chat." Her eyes glitter like gold.

He narrows his eyes. "A chat ... very well." Let her rattle on and expose her plan, he thinks to himself. They always do. Sooner or later she'll make a mistake and I'll escape, and I'll be in all the better position to foil her.

She looks thoughtful for a moment, as if reminiscing. "I never expected to run into you on the museum caper, though it was fortuitous. Funny, both of us coming all the way from Keystone City. It was even more fortuitous that the Gambler and Mabuse disrupted the party, because it meant I was able to make use of my plan to abscond with you."

He blinks. "Your plan? You're intending to ... what, ransom me? Use me as a ploy to ambush the Flash?"

She appears amused at his evident confusion. "No ... no ... nothing like that at all." She walks over to him, and strokes his cheek. "I want you to join me."

His mouth falls open. "Join you? In what?"

"In a life of crime, of course," she adds simply. "You skills paired with mine ... we could easily take down the Flash, and run Keystone on our own!"

"You're crazy," he says, wondering in what sort of insane clichéd scenario he'd found himself.

Golden Glider pouts, "You're one to talk about crazy ... Tubby Tunney."

The Gay Troubadour groans at the use of a long outgrown childhood nickname. "I see you've done your research."

"Oh, I know all about you," she agrees. "Your musical career which fizzled out, so you turned to the sciences and commenced a research program at Midwestern University on the precise mathematical characteristics of complex vibrations ... and how much you missed being the center of attention on stage, so began a career as an adventurer. You even saved the Flash's life once ... or was that the other way around?"

"We're in the same line of work, lady, we don't keep track."

"Oh, I think you do," she says. "I think you keep track of everything, just like I do. We're a lot alike, you see."

He shakes his head, "We're nothing alike, lady!"

Her hands reach up to the base of her skull, and she removes her mask and wig, unpinning her hair which falls to her shoulders. Her graceful neck, attractive chin and full lips seem momentarily incongruous with what is revealed to be a sharply pointed nose, deep-set eyes and mousy brown hair. "I was never the center of attention when I was younger, because nobody notices a woman with my looks ... with a mask and a wig I could don a whole new personality." She ruffles his blond hair, "You're one of the most handsome men I've ever seen, but you grew up a fat kid and never found your way as an adult. We both found what we needed behind new identities and a life of adventure."

"You found your 'way' ... if that's what you call it ... in a life of crime. I found mine fighting for justice."

"Oh please ... let's talk about 'justice.' I know how you used your academic position to get a lectureship for Princess Hellene from Crete, knowing full well she was also the criminal Black Widow ... and how you did nothing to stop her crimes in advance, preferring instead to grandstand and help the Flash stop her."

He gapes at her, "How ... how did you ... "

She grins, "The Flash's Rogues' Gallery is a very tight-knit group. We all share our dirty little secrets. You might say we're like family."

"I admit, I ... "

"Think nothing of it. And as for 'justice' ... I only steal from people who have more money than they deserve. And I've never hurt anyone, ever, in any of my crimes. I'm in it for the thrills and attention, just like you. The Golden Glider is ..." She slips the mask and gold wig back on, transforming her face, and running her hands up and down her golden minidress, "a fantasy figure to half the men in Keystone, a femme fatale, nothing I could ever be on my own."

"There's still a difference, curse you! When someone does good they do so for its own sake ... when someone does evil they do so for personal gain."

"I've followed your career for some time. The Flash can rescue a kitten from a tree and make front page news on Keystone papers. You brought in the Black Hat, the Snapper, the Wooden Man ... all buried on page five. You, who went into this to be in the spotlight, don't tell me that doesn't grate on you?"

He grinds his teeth. "Yes ... it does."

She leans down to kiss him. Her lips are tender, her breath sweet, the gold on her dress sparkles in his eyes. "We'll make the front page headlines, you and I .. .and the Flash won't know what hit him."

"I ... I ... " he looks into her gold-flecked eyes. "I'll try it."

* * *

"You look good in red," the Golden Glider says.

Garrison Tunney grins at her. "Thank you. I decided a new career deserved a new look. And those sonic gimmicks are old hat ... I decided I'd be better off beating the Flash at his own game." He shows her the helmet he was working on. "This will set up a vibrational ripple which allows me to run and fly at super speed ... so far I've tested it at 150 mph but the upper limit is way beyond that."

Eyeing his new uniform, with its red shirt, red tights, and red boots, she notes, "You don't look like a troubadour in that, though."

He shakes his head, "No, I don't. I'm going to be making a lot of trouble for the Flash, we both will be ... so from now on call me Gary Trouble! Trouble with a capital T!"


End file.
